


Reading between the lines

by SomewhereBeyondReality



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gendry is a Baratheon, King Rhaegar, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Queen Lyanna Stark, insecure Gendry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 03:15:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15476436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomewhereBeyondReality/pseuds/SomewhereBeyondReality
Summary: "Everyone knows what I’m from – what I am. I was never stupid enough to think a lady would want me." Arya Stark hears she is to be betrothed to bastard-turned-Baratheon-heir and isn't happy about it. Gendry thinks he knows why. (He doesn't).AryaxGendry Week 2018. "That's not what I meant."





	Reading between the lines

**Author's Note:**

> Squeaking in with a piece for Arya/Gendry Week 2018. Prompt: That’s not what I meant.  
> No Robert’s Rebellion AU. Or rather Rhaegar-was-less-of-an-idiot AU.  
> • Aerys died off way earlier, so no rebellion and Rhaegar married Lyanna instead of Elia, - so hello legitimate Crown Prince Jon. (And he’s still Jon because screw that Aegon business). And Elia lived happily ever after.  
> • Robert is just Lord of the Stormlands, but still married Cersei and the incest went down the same way so Joffrey/Myrcella/Tommen still exist.  
> • Ned still somehow ended up Lord of Winterfell and married Catelyn, so all the Starklings are the same. (RIP Brandon, sorry you just always get in the way of AUs).

Gendry hunched over his food, gaze fixed on his plate. Beside him, she sat equally stiffly, knuckles clenched around her fork.

_He’d barely had a chance to greet Lady Arya when his father had barged over to them, eyeing the Northern girl appreciatively._

_“Ned – what are you doing hiding away treasures like this up in your frozen wasteland?” Robert boomed, ignoring how Lady Arya tensed under his gaze. “Gendry, you must already be looking forward to the bedding ceremony.”_

_Lady Arya turned flooded a stark, total white, rounding on her parents. “ **That’s** why you brought me?” She spat. “To **betroth** me to **him**?” _

_Gendry winced – his father had warned him about a possible match with Lord Stark’s daughter, so he’d at least had time to think about it. Clearly Lady Arya hadn’t._

_Lady Stark bit her lip, looking uncommonly flustered; while Lord Stark just sighed, frowning at Robert._

_“Robert, we agreed we’d let them meet first.”_

_Robert grimaced, swaying tipsily on his feet. “Sorry Ned, m’thoughts got away from me. Still,” he slapped Gendry on the back. “How can she not be happy with the lad?”_

_Lady Arya’s lips pressed into a line, her fists clenching and whole body shaking with rage, Gendry thought she was going to punch him. Instead she threw one, final furious look at the lot of them and whirled around, storming out of the hall._

_Gendry stood gazing after her, chest numb and hollow and cursing himself. Why had he expected anything else?_

Now they were sitting side by side, each as tense as each other, watching everyone else in the Great Hall celebrate and enjoy the frivolities.

King Rhaegar was talking with Queen Lyanna – Arya’s aunt, while their son Jon danced with Rhaegar’s sister Daenerys. Nearby Gendry’s “uncle” Renly was talking with Ser Loras Tyrell, and Princess Elia Martell was laughing at some argument between her husband Lord Hightower and brother Prince Oberyn. Even Lord Stark was relaxed, giggling over drinks with Robert like they were boys again.

Well, at least _they_ were happy, Gendry thought bitterly. He knew how close Robert had been to Ned Stark, but the last time they’d seen each other was in over eight years ago, when the Starks visited Storms End.

Of course, that had been before Gendry’s time, back when Joffrey was heir to the Stormlands. Then Robert had discovered the incest, Cersei and Joffrey executed, Myrcella and Tommen exiled to Casterly Rock and Robert dragged out any bastard he could find to legitimatise – never mind if the bastard was the son of a tavern girl who couldn’t even read.

_“Oh, people will talk,” Robert shrugged. “But damn it to seven hells if I’m going to be forced to marry a woman like that Lannister bitch again. If I have to make a rat from Flea Bottom my heir, then so be it._

So, Gendry stayed, enduring all the sneers that came from watching a bastard from Flea Bottom try to be a lord. Of course, Lady Arya was revolted by him – Baratheon name or not, no high-born lady would ever want him knowing what he truly was.

Still, that thought didn’t stop the white ball of anger growing in his chest.

To his shock, Lady Arya broke the silence.

“You don’t have anything to say about this then?” She said coldly.

Gendry clenched his jaw. “What am I _meant_ to say?” he snapped back. “You don’t want this and nothing I do is going change your mind about it.”

“Maybe you’re not as stupid as you look.” She scoffed. “Of _course,_ I don’t want this.”

Despite himself, Gendry flinched at those words, hurt at open disdain.

“Well I never expected you to.”

At that, she turned to him, looking confused. “My reputation preceded me that much?”

He blinked. “ _Your_ reputation?”

“My…feelings about marriage.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” he shrugged. “But everyone knows what I’m from – what I am. I was never stupid enough to think any lady would be happy to marry me.”  

She stared at him. “That – _that’s_ why you think I’m angry? Because of where you’re from?”

Gendry glanced down at her, clenching his goblet. “I understand. You expected a fine lord and you got a lowborn bastard instead.” He smiled bitterly. “Believe it or not, I never imagined marrying a woman by force. I’m sorry you got me instead of that knight you dreamed of.”

“I didn’t –”

“It’s fine.” Gendry shrugged. “Like, you said – of _course_ you don’t want this.”

Lady Arya shook her head, grey eyes suddenly clouded. “No. No. That’s not what I meant.”

X-X

Arya stared at Gendry Baratheon – he was flushed and fiddling with his goblet, running his nail along the etching.  His fingers were calloused, Arya noticed absently, calloused and blistered. She wondered if he still worked in the forge – or whether that was forbidden now. If he still wanted to even if it was.

 _That’s_ what he’d been thinking? That there was something wrong with _him_?

“That’s not what I meant.” She repeated.

Gendry furrowed his brow. “What?”

“I – I don’t care that you’re a bastard.” She blurted out. “I don’t. Truly. That’s not why I’m angry.” He frowned even more. “I’m not angry that I’m marrying _you,_ I’m angry that I have to marry _anyone._ At least without being given any choice in it. I’d be just as angry if it was some proper lord sitting here.”

He blinked, looking like he was struggling to understand everything she said. “You…don’t mean that.”  

“I do.” Arya snapped fiercely, forgetting her own hurt for a moment in an effort to wipe the pained look off his face. “Angrier even. You’re already better than most of the men here – none of would be worried about my feelings or disappointing me.” She swallowed.  “If anything, you’re the one who should be disappointed at marrying me. That’s what I was expecting.”

Gendry put down his goblet and turned to face her properly now, a strange light shining in his blue eyes.

“What? Why?”

Now it was Arya’s turn to avoid his gaze. She glanced down at her bruised hands, her knuckles still battered from her last practice with Syrio. “I’m no lady.” She said. “My sister is, and my mother. But I’m…I can’t sew or sing or mind my manners or keep my hair tidy. Mother told me no lady wife carries a sword, and Septa Mordane said I had the hands of a blacksmith. Sansa called me horseface and said I’d have to marry our stable boy because no lord would want me.”

Arya bit her lip to stop more things from spilling out: her parents whispers she’d overheard one night ( _“What **can** we do with Arya Ned? She will bring dishonour to the whole Stark name if she carries on this way. The gods know sometimes I wish Sansa was my only daughter.”) _

Gendry was silent for a moment, his steady gaze fixed on her. Arya glared back at him, pushing down a lump in her throat. _Better than he knows now,_ she told herself sternly, _so he can get out of this as well._

“You carry a sword?” He said at last.

Arya’s heart sunk, regretting letting that slip. “Yes.” She growled. “And you can’t take it from me, Jon the _prince_ gave it to me for my tenth nameday _._ It’s _mine._ ”

He shook his head; his brooding expression brightening by the second. “No, no that’s not what I meant. I was thinking I’d like to see it. And wondering what kind of blade it is. Perhaps I could forge you another, especially if you’ve had this one for so long.”

Arya gaped at him and Gendry hurried onwards, words tumbling out.

“It’s just swordswomen of your size are so rare, I’m interested in how it was forged, what style it is – how you fight. I liked that when I was a smith, matching blades to their masters, finding what suited them.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry, it was a stupid idea.”

“No.” Arya finally found her voice. “No, it’s not. I’d like that. You’d truly make me another?”

He smiled, swift and scared. “If you want me too.” He paused, “And everything about you being a lady…. I don’t know anything about that. In the forge, all I knew about ladies was not to get dust on their fine dresses. I don’t see why you not being able to sing matters. And why should my wife sew rather than fight? I never decided that. And if your manners are so bad, then you won’t be as angry about being seen with a bastard who still says milord instead of my lord.”

Arya’s heart was pounding, and she was caught by an impulse to grab his hand. “Do you want to see the forge here?” She asked. “Or we go and out explore? Meet people?”

“People?” He asked cautiously. “Other highborns?”

“No stupid, the _people._ Everyone who lives in the city.”

Arya stopped, realizing Gendry was staring at her, an unreadable expression on his face. She wondered again if she’d said too much. But his eyes were shining. “We can go wherever you want.” He promised.

“Really?” She checked, feeling suspicious.

“Yes.” He repeated. “Really.”

Arya looked at him for a long moment, and then slowly, tentatively put her hand over his.

“Alright then.”  

**Author's Note:**

> I know the Gendry-as-a-Baratheon and arranged marriage AU has been done a million times before, but I tried to somewhat justify how a bastard was legitimized and made heir to Storms End, with Robert basically refusing to remarry after Cersei. (You can also assume Edric doesn't exist in this version otherwise he'd be chosen over Gendry).
> 
> Hope you enjoyed, please review!


End file.
